A Fang-tastic Tale
by ZizzyO
Summary: Cursed to change into a vampire when the clock strikes twelve, human Ella has managed to hide her dual nature for years. But when a little Halloween romp gets out of hand, she suddenly finds herself pursued by one of the nicest vampires this side of the eastern seaboard. Fairy tale inspired, in which Godric is no Prince Charming and Fangtasia is hardly a grand ball.


Halloween was one of the biggest nights at Fangtasia. As far as the night club business went, Halloween was equivalent to Black Friday but with costumes, drunkenness, and less causalities. In honor of the holiday and the enormous increase in cash flow, Eric had transformed the usual black and red club into a glittering masked den of depravity with a three night celebratory special. Preliminary costume contests were held on Friday and Saturday leading up to the grand prize on the actual Halloween date of Sunday. Discounted drinks for masked or costumed costumes along with free entry in the cash prize contest.

As the night wore on, the costumes grew more and more daring in a rather explicit sort of way. So, when a ninja with cleavage canyon-deep swung onto the empty bar-stool beside him, Godric wasn't too terribly surprised. She perched on the edge of the seat, crossing her legs daintily as she set her drink down on the blacktop. Dark smoky eyes peeked at him framed by an inky black mask that covered her from nose to chin.

They shared the soft silence of two souls sipping at drinks while watching the crowded debauchery play out in the giant mirror that spanned the length of the bar. Then, she broke the companionable silence with a voice that bubbled with all of the joy of an unrestrained mountain stream. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your costume?" The ninja gestured at the gray nondescript clothing.

Godric wrapped both hands around his TruBlood watching as her eyes widened as she read the label. "As a vampire… I felt a costume was unnecessary."

As she leaned forward, the motion magnetically drew his eyes to her breasts. Unless her breasts were naturally that gravity-defying—a fact he found rather unlikely; the bra was either attached to the costume or cleverly hidden. "You're missing out on the _fun_." She playfully chided; her tone and leer transforming the definition of fun into sex of the kinkiest kind.

"To the contrary, I find that _fun_ requires no costume. Also, I must admit that I fail to understand the appeal of it all."

"Pretending to be something you're not. Hiding your true identity, acting free of repercussions… It can be quite liberating." Her hand stroked the side of her glass and he felt a brief brush of her heels against his sandals.

Godric smiled charmingly at her, taking a sip of his blood substitute. "And why is that you feel the need to disguise yourself?"

"Because I have certain _expectations_ for tonight." She purred.

"Elaborate."

"Frankly, I plan on getting laid in costume."

"That may prove a challenge." Blatantly, he surveyed her skin-tight black covering. It didn't leave a lot accessible. Although, it did bare the toned muscle of her upper arms and shoulders. An attached hood framed the bare strip of olive skin that peeked out from under the black mask covered her from nose to chin. Black coverings wrapped around palms and ended at her elbows, secured with bright red ties that interlaced around her forearms. Matching ties wound around her thighs and down towards her knees. The same fresh blood red accented her curving hips as a sash tied high around her waist and draped diagonally down her abs.

"It simply requires a creative approach. I feel confident that I can locate someone up to the task."

He quirked a brow and leaned forward, inches away from her covered mouth. The muscles in his shoulders and chest bunched and loosed with his motion. Her eyes tracked the movement of them. He deliberately flexed them as she watched. "Is that your only purpose in coming here?"

She stared at him blankly.

"Why a vampire bar?"

"Oh. I've been here before…" She glanced away, an appealing flash of shyness that was at odds with her revealing costume. "I may have my eye on a few of the regulars here."

"We have met before then?" Godric mentally ran those eyes and the impressive rack through his mental catalog of humans, only to come up empty. She was undeniably human; he could smell the blood pulsing through her veins and the deep pulse of dance music was a triple-beat counterpart to the steady thrum of her heart.

"No, but I've seen you here before. You've always behaved honorably to the human customers." She shrugged elegantly and her cleavage bobbed enticingly. "Not all vampires do. But, you don't treat humans as inferior…" She trailed off gazing into his mercury eyes. "I like that."

A soft smile lifted his mouth and warmed his pale features. "The rarity of it is a shame. Many vampires view their past and origins as a weakness, treating humans inferior as an extension of that view."

"Well, I am quite glad that you do not share it." Her glass rose for a toast. After his thick red liquid clinked against her bubbling intoxicant, she gulped down the last of it and captured his hand.

Tingles spread from her warm touch as she gracefully slid off of the barstool and gestured towards the dance floor. "Dance with me?" An inviting smile danced across her face, pooling in her brown eyes. And Godric caved. Left his blood and sorrows at the bar and eased into the easy rhythms of her swaying hips.

At some point, the thudding pulse of the music morphed into the thud of her back against the door as he pressed her firmly against the wall. The edge of the mask was nestled across the bridge of her nose, revealing thin pink lips that looked far too innocent for the brazen ninja. Lifting her onto her toes, he plundered her mouth and tested the depths of her desire before coaxing her down the hallway and into his lair.

Eagerly, she followed sneaking her hands under the thin linen of his shirt and toying with the laces of his trousers. Patiently, he tugged her along and latched the door behind them as she finally undid the first knot. A soft tweak of hard nipples had her panting as she steered them in a circle, pushing against his chest.

Gasping, she broke away and managed to release the death grip her fingers had on his collar. "What time is it?" She huffed, feeling the room tilt and sway around her.

"9:26." He answered, eying the stern clock face in Eric's office. "Why?" He questioned, before nipping at her collarbones and suckling his way downwards.

"Early plans tomorrow, no time to dawdle."

Godric snorted amusedly into her cleavage, caught off-guard by her excuse. "This hardly counts as 'dawdling.'" And then, he proceeded to make her lose all track of time. Eagerly, she returned the favor. Godric allowed himself to be pushed back against the locked door as she resumed her attempts to undo his pants. Scarcely had she tugged his trousers down, before she undid a hidden snap at her hip. Black fabric parted just so, revealing her core.

Then, she pounced. With a quick hop, she grabbed the top of the door-frame. Long legs curled around his thighs as she hung before him. Arm muscles stood out in sharp relief as she hovered above him, long brown hair curtaining them from the rest of the empty room.

Casually, just to prove that he could—Godric wrapped one arm around her back, taking some of her weight, as his free hand dove between them. She hissed as he flicked at her bud, rocking into the motion. Carefully, he lined them up, adjusting the angle until the very tip teased her.

A giggle left the hidden lips as she relaxed her grip. Instead of dropping down that tantalizing inch, Godric caught her entire weight and halted her momentum—leaving her suspended in mid-air.

Toothily, he grinned at her cry of dismay and frantic wiggles.

"Why the rush?" He asked, continuing to rub against her core. Her response got lost in translation. The particular set of moans that tumbled out of her mouth probably meant 'more' and 'faster'… it was that or 'pass the jelly'… which was a bit more kinky than he was really prepared for this evening. Godric made a mental note to bring jam tomorrow…just in case. In the meantime, she had cautiously eased back into his hold and slowly unwrapped her hands.

All in all, things were going marvelously well until his hands dove into the silky mass of hair, pinning her in place as he teased the circumference of neck with his lips. The stiff mask scratched against his face, taunting him with its presence. Sucking against her neck and sliding upwards in a move that made her buck wildly against him, his fingers fumbled with the knots hidden in her hair.

"No! Not the mask!" She clutched at it, rearing back—away from his touch. Abandoning the ties, he grasped at her hips—hauling her back onto him.

"Why?" The deep growl raised the hairs on the back of her neck and sent shivers down her spine.

"Why does a tiger have stripes?"

"Have you not hunted enough tonight, little one?"

"No."

"Fear not. There is no reason to hide." His palms soothed her back muscles with soft and gentle strokes from hands sturdier than granite. "I shall respect your wishes, you may keep your mask. But, your hands will be forfeit."

Her mouth parted in puzzlement, working through his statement and beginning to phrase her question when he easily looped the ends of that bright red sash around her wrists. Trapped in the small of her back, her hands fluttered helplessly like moth wings in the dimly lit office.

"I have agreed to leave your mask in place." Godric whispered, fingers tracing along the plunging neckline of her catsuit. Her torso crashed into him, arching into his touch and sliding across his chest. "Do not be alarmed." With that simple warning, his fingers curled into the clinging fabric and with a mere twist of his wrists, the suit split straight down the center—from her cleavage to her curls. His hand plunged back between her thighs before her startled exclamation died. "Does that count as a creative approach?"

Afterwards, as they lay curled together on the floor, he finally asked the question she had been avoiding all night. "Who are you?" He licked his lips enjoying the tart evidence of his intimate tasting.

"No names. Shhh…" Her eyes fluttered sleepily as she nuzzled further into his embrace.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" Regretfully, he traced the bruises on her hips, a purpling outline of his hands and a sign of his lapse of control when he came.

"Only if you actually wear a costume." She teased, slowly straightening.

"How will you know until after your arrival?" He refuted, toying with the blood red sash—It was the only piece of her outfit, besides that blasted mask, to survive unscathed.

"Because you're going to swear… And if you don't, then I'll simply find more promising company."

And so he promised. She cuddled against him for a moment more, until the annoying grandfather clock that Pam had dragged out of storage struck midnight. Startled, she clutched at her clothes.

"I have to go!" Squirming back into the cat suit and hastily holding the torn edges together, she darted for the door. Godric pinned her against it. Hands sliding into her hair as he possessively claimed her mouth. As he pulled away, he tugged the stupid mask back down. Hiding the kiss-swollen lips from sight.

"Until tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, Tomorrow…. Well, technically tonight. Goodbye, Godric."

As the door slammed shut behind her, he realized that he had never mentioned his name.

And that he was still holding her sash.

=============================Fangtastic!=======================================

A.N: Because I realize that I'm absolutely terrible at picking names… I wanted to reassure everyone that although I haven't yet revealed her name, this is very very loosely based off of a fairy-tale so there's no need to fear another Bob!


End file.
